


When Skies Are Grey

by neversaydie



Series: alright now [2]
Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: College, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Pre-Canon, Trans Character, Trans Jack, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: "Can you cut my hair?""Uh…" Sammy hesitates, pen hanging over his notes where he's been studying at the kitchen table. He doesn't have the world's steadiest hands, and Jack and Lily's adventures in undercuts often end up a little crooked as it is, but the look on Jack's face convinces him that just making the effort will be appreciated.Jack's got that set to his jaw which says he's holding it together against something that's really bothering him, and Sammy suddenly realises he's walking on eggshells. The way his boyfriend had slammed the door when he got home and immediately stomped into his room without even saying hello started Sammy's suspicions, but this confirms it: something happened.[in which Jack had a shitty day, and Sammy tries to help.]





	When Skies Are Grey

**Author's Note:**

> TW: this offers an outside perspective on dysphoria, plus verbal commentary about dysphoria. also feat. thoughtless misgendering comment from a stranger.

"Can you cut my hair?"  
  
"Uh…" Sammy hesitates, pen hanging over his notes where he's been studying at the kitchen table. He doesn't have the world's steadiest hands, and Jack and Lily's adventures in undercuts often end up a little crooked as it is, but the look on Jack's face convinces him that just making the effort will be appreciated.

Jack's got that set to his jaw which says he's holding it together against something that's really bothering him, and Sammy suddenly realises he's walking on eggshells. The way his boyfriend had slammed the door when he got home and immediately stomped into his room without even saying hello started Sammy's suspicions, but this confirms it: something happened.

"You sure you don't wanna wait for Lily?"

"No. I want this shit off my head," he's got that muscle twitching in his cheek and Sammy just knows something went down since Jack woke up in a good mood and left for class. He's not going to ask, because he knows it'll come out eventually, but he braces himself in preparation. Jack keeps his shit locked down pretty tight, mostly, which means it can be… volatile, when it comes out. "Please?"

"Okay. Just don't blame me if you end up bald," Sammy gives it a try, but the joke falls flat as Jack just nods and walks into the bathroom without a word. Shit.

Things have been pretty stable for them for the last couple of months, even if it hasn't been the easiest time for the Wright twins. Their parents still aren't on board with what they refer to as Jack's 'lifestyle choices', and an upcoming visit home has both siblings on edge with that special brand of queer anxiety Sammy knows so well. Lily's been spending more time at her girlfriend's place than in the apartment, and Sammy knows Jack misses having his sister around... even if they bicker constantly when they're together.

Jack's also been pushing himself lately - trying to overcome some fears and anxieties through what basically amounts to exposure therapy. Sammy knows it's probably a necessary process, and admires the hell out of his boyfriend for doing it (and fuck knows he's too much of a coward to do it with his own triggers), but part of him still wishes he wouldn't. The part of Sammy that just wants to protect Jack and keep him safe from all the world's bullshit really, really wishes he'd just give himself a break sometimes.

The bathroom is small and permanently muggy in the summer heat, steam never quite drying no matter how long it's been since someone took a shower (which is what happens when you rent on a student budget). Jack's shoulders are tight as he gets the set of clippers and hairdressing scissors out from the cabinet below the sink, and Sammy watches from the door to try and figure out what his best approach is here.

Sammy's anxiety makes him a collector - he observes people, catalogues their behaviour, and then tailors his own to try and get the outcome he wants from a situation. Lily calls him manipulative for it when they're fighting (which is always), but when it comes to Jack having a shitty day… sometimes it's the only tool Sammy has at his disposal to get a read on things.

"I just want like, back and sides. It's too shaggy right now," Jack catches Sammy's eye in the mirror and explains a little more when he sees his boyfriend's trepidation. Sammy's currently growing his hair out into some kind of man-bun monstrosity (he says it's intentional, but the twins figure it's just laziness), and generally stays far away from any of the Wrights' hair experiments. "You've seen Lily do it a million times, I promise it's not hard."

"I just don't wanna mess it up," Sammy comes into the bathroom, despite the tension hanging heavy in the atmosphere, and picks up the clippers gingerly. Jack closes his eyes wearily, like he doesn't have the energy to hold Sammy's hand through this, and Sammy reaches out to squeeze his elbow in a silent reassurance that they've got this, between them. "You wanna take your shirt off first, or…?"

"Nah. I'll just shower after," Jack's practically vibrating with tension at this point, and Sammy takes that as his cue to just shut up and get on with it.

The first few passes with the clippers go without incident, as Sammy gently guides his boyfriend's head forwards with his fingertips to get the very back down to an even length. Jack has thick, sandy-blond hair, and just the sight of it falling down the back of his t-shirt makes Sammy itch.

He briefly thinks about asking Jack to strip again, especially since he's going to end up with hair in his binder like this and that'll be uncomfortable for days even if he washes it, but then Jack clears his throat nervously and speaks… and Sammy realises what a disaster him standing in front of a mirror with his shirt off would be right now.

"I went to the barbershop off campus, today. Y'know the one that does all the student discounts and shit?"

Sammy makes an affirmative noise without saying anything, heart already sinking. Part of the reason he's growing his hair out (not that he'd admit to it) is because even his queer ass is too intimidated to try and brave the apparently very masculine and bro-driven environment of the only affordable barbershop nearby… he can only imagine what the fuck Jack found in there.

Jack's voice isn't steady, exactly, but the emotional waver in it is held together by the undercurrent of steely rage Sammy knows from when he's really, truly infuriated. This is bad.

"They weren't busy. I know they do walk-ins. So I go in to ask for a haircut and the guy says 'we cut men's hair, sweetie', like I was an idiot... like I was some stupid little girl. I… I just left, I didn't know what to say," Jack's voice shakes a little at that and he swallows hard, but sharply shrugs Sammy's hand off when he tries to touch his shoulder. "Don't."

"That… that fucking sucks," Sammy says quietly, carefully, because he knows adding his own anger into the mix isn't going to be helpful here. He turns off the clippers, because he already almost took an unintentional chunk out of Jack's hair when he pulled away, despite the fact it inspires an irritated grunt from his boyfriend. "There's that unisex salon over by-"

"I don't _want_ to go to a fucking gender neutral place. I just wanna go to a local fucking barber like every other guy in this shithole country," there it is, the explosion Sammy's been anticipating, and he's just glad it's happening now rather than later, when Jack might get destructive ideas about how to deal with it. "I don't _need_ special treatment, I don't _want_ special treatment, I just want to go about my day like a normal fucking guy."

"Babe, I know-"

"I'm so tired of this," Sammy can see Jack's face start to crumple in the mirror despite how hard he's fighting it, and he slowly sets the clippers down on the sink because fuck, this is _bad_. Jack _never_ cries. "I'm so sick of people treating me like a butch woman. Like even my fucking friends call me 'they' around people because I don't fucking pass, so they'd have to _explain_ 'he' and that would be _uncomfortable_ for them. Like I'm not in pain every second of my fucking life, like I can't even _breathe_ because of my fucking binder, because the mere existence of my tits would make them _uncomfortable_ -"

"Jack-"

"And I walk around fucking deluding myself, thinking I look okay, thinking maybe I look kinda masculine enough, and then I see my reflection in a window or someone says something, or I can't even get a fucking haircut without-" he chokes back a sob, and Sammy really wishes Lily were here. Jack is pretty good at dealing with his day-to-day dysphoria most of the time, but being set off like this is always, unfailingly awful. "I'm so fucking _tired_ , Sammy."

"I'm sorry," that's pretty much all he can say, all his pithiness and charm and way with words evaporated in the face of the man he loves shaking with barely repressed emotion, hands gripping the edge of the sink with white knuckles in some attempt to get himself under control. Sammy does the only thing he can and pulls Jack into his arms, not even noticing the hair getting all over his shirt as Jack's hands drop to his sides like he can't hug him back yet.

"I don't want this. I just want to be normal," Jack lets out a shaky breath and slowly brings his arms up to rest wearily around Sammy's waist, twisting his fingers into the soft material of his boyfriend's button-up as he buries his face in his shoulder.

Being vulnerable is hard for both of them, but especially Jack. Especially times like this. And if all Sammy can do is hold him through it, then Sammy will damn well hold him as tight as he can. He did it before they got together romantically, and he likes to think that if they ever broke up, he'd still be here however Jack needed him to.

"I'm… Jack, I'm sorry it's so hard. I really am, and I wish I could help. And I'm sorry people are so fucking shitty and thoughtless," Sammy's learned what _not_ to say ('you _are_ normal', 'it's their problem, not yours', 'who cares what they think', and so forth), but the things that might actually help in these dire moments still seem like a mystery sometimes. He just doesn't want to make things worse - he never wants Jack to hurt _more_ because of him. "If it makes you feel better, you're definitely the most masculine person in this room. Like, by a long way."

"That's a low bar," Jack sniffles, trying to inject some lightness into his tone (he always gets embarrassed after showing too much of a feeling, which Sammy thinks is a Wright thing more than anything else, because Lily's the same), and Sammy gives him a gentle squeeze and doesn't say a damn word about his shoulder getting damp under Jack's eyes.

"Hey, I'm just saying. You know it's bullshit that my masculinity goes unchallenged no matter what I do, but you have to fight for every scrap of respect you get. You know that, and I know that, and so do the people who love you. And honestly, I'm so fucking proud of you for showing up to that fight every day. I couldn't do it," Jack makes a slightly strangled sound at that, wet and weary, and Sammy kisses the sweaty crown of his head which, thankfully, hasn't had the clippers near it yet. "And you're still my sunshine, despite the fact you've got all this shit constantly draining you. You're the strongest guy I've ever met, Jack. You're my hero. I'm not bullshitting."

"Don't go overboard," Jack squeezes Sammy back despite his weak attempt at a quip, and only looks a little embarrassed that he has to scrub the back of his hand over his red eyes when he pulls away. He doesn't understand that Sammy could go on telling him how much he's in awe of the shit Jack puts up with just to live every day forever - which is just fine, because Sammy intends to keep telling him that as long as he can. "Okay, I'm done being... Sorry, it just really got under my skin and-"

"Babe, fuck that guy. Even if you _were_ a woman walking in to get a short haircut, fuck that guy and his condescending shit," Sammy lets a little of his anger out now that Jack's angst isn't quite so sharp, and it's a testament to how much he's been able to calm himself down that his boyfriend manages to huff out something in the same ballpark as a laugh. Sammy fucking adores him, even when things are hard, and that's what allows him to stow his own rage in favour of helping Jack feel better. "I'd like to see someone call Lily _sweetie_ and come out alive."

Jack does manage to laugh at that, quietly, apparently ready to move on from his rare moment of emotional rawness. Sammy knows he sits on a torrent of this stuff daily, and the fact his boyfriend is usually so upbeat in the face of it never fails to impress him.

"Can we…" Jack swallows and sets his jaw again, but this time it's only about steeling himself and not about concealing his feelings. "Can you finish my hair? And then can we maybe just…"

"I've got the new season of _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_ queued up, if you wanna snuggle," Sammy grins hopefully, and Jack returns a gently tearful smile. "And I'll turn the AC up so you can wear a hoodie, if you want."

It's what they usually do when Jack's been binding for hours but still can't stand himself from dysphoria, but today Jack shakes his head. He's burst the blister of what's hurt him today, and now it's just him and Sammy - just them, fine just the way they are. He doesn't need to suffer through that.

"I'm good, I'll just shower after this and… chill," Jack shoots him another sheepish smile and Sammy has to kiss him this time, has to take his boyfriend's face in his hands and somehow let him know that he's the world to him and more. Fuck what anyone else thinks, this is the man he loves.  
  
Jack actually laughs when Sammy finally lets him go, grinning through the watery sadness still lurking behind his eyes. Sammy feels like he's worth the oxygen he burns through when Jack smiles at him like that.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Romeo," Jack blows out a slow, controlled breath and stands in front of the mirror again, facing himself before he closes his eyes and nods. "You're right, I should take my shirt off before this gets any itchier."

"Whatever you want, babe," Sammy picks up the clippers again as Jack strips his shirt off and hesitates for a second before struggling out of his binder. The sweat of the day always makes it harder to get off, and Sammy is already relieved with how much easier he's breathing without it on. He knows Jack struggles hard with what he sees when he's not wearing it, but for Sammy, he's never seen anything but a hell of a man. "Ready?"

"Ready," Jack nods, jaw set with less desperation and more determination than last time, and meets his own eyes in the mirror as the clippers start to buzz.

He can see Sammy behind him, after all.


End file.
